Rebecca's Return (The Adams County Trilogy 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “But we should be thankful for what hospitals do for us,” she said quickly.

  “That’s true,” he agreed, “but the best is still the best.”

  “I’m just thankful for all that these doctors and nurses are doing. They really care here.”

  “I am thankful,” he said.

  “Good evening,” Aden said, as he and Esther approached.

  “Good evening,” Isaac said with a nod.

  “Thankful the weather’s not too cold,” Aden offered. “Makes the drive down easier.”

  “Yes,” Isaac agreed. “I thought of that too. Guess we would have put the visit off—if things had been too bad.”

  “You think we’ll have snow for Christmas?” Aden asked.

  “Sounds like a schoolboy,” Isaac commented, chuckling. “I see your parking lot is full—most days anyway. Suppose you could be using John.”

  “Sure. But it can’t be helped.” Aden’s face was all sympathy. “I guess you could fill in for him a few days, if you wanted,” he added, holding the front doors of the medical center open for the rest of their group.

  “But what about my harness shop?” Isaac said from just inside, the front doors swinging shut with a soft thud.

  “I know.” Aden shrugged his shoulders. “It puts all of us in a pinch.”

  “Why don’t you hire someone part-time?” Isaac asked.

  “Takes too much training—wouldn’t be fair for either of us. We’ll just muddle along the best we can.”

  “Well, maybe I could come over a day or so.”

  “It would help,” Aden shrugged his shoulders again. “Even an afternoon would do wonders. You know your way around. Some of the sales, Sharon just can’t make.”

  “I could work at least till Christmas sales are caught up,” Isaac thought aloud.

  “Things are busy, though, till the first of the year,” Aden reminded him. “Maybe John will be better by then.”

  “That’s probably asking a lot. He’s a long way from that,” Isaac said.

  “You never know. People recover fast sometimes.”

  “It’s all in Da Hah’s hands.”

  “Yes, it is,” Aden agreed.

  As the four walked up to the empty front desk, Miriam said, “A nurse should be here soon.”

  “Can’t we just go back?” Isaac asked.

  “I always let them know when I come in,” Miriam said.

  “We’re not waiting too long.” Isaac made his decision quickly. “If no one shows up soon, we know where the room is.”

  As if he had been heard, footsteps sounded in the hall. The attendant appeared around the corner, walking briskly. “I thought I heard someone,” she said, greeting them with a warm smile.

  “You’re still here?” Miriam asked in surprise, used to seeing the familiar nurse she had come to know as Mrs. Madison during the daylight hours.

  “I’m on second shift today. It varies,” Mrs. Madison said. “You can all go on back if you wish.”

  “Any changes?” Miriam asked, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

  “Nothing that you can see,” the nurse said. “But don’t give up hope. Sometimes they come out of it just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. “But really no one knows.”

  “It’s in the Lord’s hands,” Isaac agreed.

  “We’re praying for him at our church,” Mrs. Madison said. “Put him on the prayer list right after they brought him in. Been praying for a miracle. He’s such a nice boy.” There were tears in her eyes now. “Faith can raise the boy up—I just know it.”

  “If it’s the Lord’s will,” Isaac said quickly.

  “Healing’s always the Lord’s will,” Mrs. Madison said with conviction. “With the doctor’s hands or with His own divine hands. That’s what I believe.”

  Isaac heard Aden’s feet shift on the floor beside him. He searched for a way not to offend this obvious expression of concern for his son with any statement of disrespect.

  “Thank you,” Isaac finally said. “We believe the Lord heals too, in His time and in His way. We will continue praying that the Almighty’s will be done.”

  “We will too,” Mrs. Madison agreed. “We’ll keep on taking good care of your son too, Mr. Miller.”

  “Thank you,” Isaac said.

  “Thank you too,” Miriam added. “Maybe we’ll see you on the way out?”

  “I’ll be here somewhere,” Mrs. Madison assured them.

  With that they walked back to John’s room, Miriam opening the door softly and leading the way in. They gathered around the bed and stood standing single file at the rail. Somewhere the steady, rhythmic beep of a monitor sounded, its noise seeming to grow louder the longer they stood there. The pale IV line hung limply down toward John’s arm.

  “He looks a little better,” Miriam said quietly.

  “There’s good color, anyway,” Esther agreed. “I haven’t seen him since the first day. He’s better now—certainly.”

  “He’s got to wake up soon,” Miriam half-whispered the words, then said louder, “John—it’s Mother. Wake up.” She reached out and touched his arm but received no response.

  “It will be in Da Hah’s own time,” Isaac told her gently, laying his hand on her arm. “We must wait for His will. It’s always best. Always.”

  “I know,” Miriam whispered. “He’ll be awake soon—if Da Hah wills it.”

  They all stood at the rail for a few more minutes, and then Isaac suggested they should sing something.

  “Like what?” Miriam whispered.

  Aden answered by beginning a favorite hymn, “Farther Along.” They began with the chorus, “Farther along we’ll know all about it…” and continued through two stanzas, singing softly and allowing the beautiful sound to fill the room.

  When they were finished, they all were quiet until Isaac led the way out. Outside the halls were empty, as they found their way to the waiting room. There too only a few people sat, leaving plenty of empty seats available.

  Sitting against the wall, the low sound of their conversation in Pennsylvania Dutch went back and forth. Twenty minutes later, when no other visitors for John showed up, Isaac suggested they go.

  Putting action to his words, he got to his feet. As they found their way out, there was no Mrs. Madison in sight at the front desk or in the halls. Minutes later they were both in their buggies, turning their horses homeward. The hoofbeats clattered on the pavement as they left the hospital parking lot.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Wednesday morning dawned as if making a dramatic attempt at awakening and then giving up, surrendered to the deep gloom of heavy storm-laden clouds. The anticipated snow started before Rebecca’s alarm clock went off, its soft swirl brushing her window.

  She reached out, shutting off the racket, getting no rush of energy from the cold air in the room. Her spirits as low as the weather, Rebecca got dressed and went out to help chore. Thoughts of John and his condition had been with her all night.

  Matthew said nothing to her when she entered the barn, apparently feeling the effects of the weather too. Halfway through the chores, she told him she was leaving to help with breakfast. He mumbled some version of an assent, telling her to shut the barn door when she left.

  Rebecca felt like telling Matthew she would not have forgotten but decided not to. There was no sense in making feelings worse on this gray morning. When she opened the barn door to leave, she found snow falling heavier. The large flakes seemed to dangle in the air, taking their time to decide where to land until they were pushed on down by their fellow falling mates.

  When Rebecca entered the kitchen, her mother told her she needed help with the bacon, the girls needed to be awakened, and the breakfast plates and silverware set out. By the time they all sat down to eat several minutes later, Rebecca was already tired and certain it was not just the weather.

  “You still troubled?” Mattie asked, as they ate their breakfast.

  “Yes,” she said.


  “It was hard for you to see John Sunday,” Mattie said.

  “I can imagine,” Lester agreed.

  “We need to write to Leona,” Mattie stated matter-of-factly. “Tell her about John.”

  “Why her?” Rebecca asked.

  “You just came from there. It’s not like all the aunts and uncles need to be told. I expect they’ll find out soon enough, but Leona deserves a personal note.”

  “Whatever.” Rebecca didn’t care one way or the other at the moment.

  “I’ll write a note after the dishes are done,” Mattie decided.

  “You think the mailman runs today?” Lester wondered.

  “The snow will quit after a while,” Matthew said, as if he was an authority on such things.

  “Are you the weatherman now?” Lester asked, chuckling.

  “No,” he said, “but we still have to get to school. Can’t have any more snow days this year.”

  Rebecca felt like telling Matthew that things like the weather didn’t always concern themselves with human needs, but she decided not to. Let Matthew keep his innocence as long as possible. Hers was being taken away fast enough.

  After the breakfast dishes were done and kids sent off to school, Mattie sat down to write her letter. Lester had decreed, after a glance outside, that Matthew was probably right. The snow would be stopping soon.

  Mattie’s letter told the story of John’s accident in great detail. When it was finished, Rebecca took the letter to the mailbox. Walking back up the driveway, she saw the mailman coming. He was an hour later than usual and bounced along the snowy road in the old beat-up pickup truck he used during bad weather. Skidding to a stop, he pulled up to the Keim mailbox.

  Turning back to get the mail, Rebecca wondered what it must be like to be a mailman, to carry both sad and joyous news at the same time. Did the one perhaps outweigh the other? She quickly decided this was silly thinking, as if the mailman could tell what was in the letters.

  Glancing back she saw the mailman stop before crossing the little bridge to the east, waiting on a buggy coming from the Harshville direction. Certain it wasn’t coming to the Keim house, Rebecca resumed walking, drawing her coat tighter.

  When the crunch of buggy wheels on gravel sounded behind her, Rebecca stepped aside to let whoever it was pass. But instead of passing her, the buggy stopped and the door slid open.

  “Good morning, Rebecca,” Miriam said, her face stretched with a thin smile.

  There was news, Rebecca knew at once. Otherwise Miriam would not be here in person.

  Sensing the worst, Rebecca gasped, “It’s bad news, isn’t it?”

  Miriam shook her head. “No, it’s good news, really. A little too good, but the hospital assured us it was true.”

  Rebecca stood, waiting for Miriam to continue.

  “John’s awake. Moving around and cheerful.” She tilted her head in Rebecca’s direction at the look on her face. “I know…I thought the same thing. But maybe Da Hah has decided to bless us with a fast recovery. We must not doubt His will or power to do what He wishes.”

  “But…that soon?” Rebecca finally managed. “Oh, it’s such good news. Are you going down to see him?”

  “Yes. And I thought maybe you’d like to come along.” Miriam glanced back toward the house. “Unless you have other things to do?”

  “No, of course not. I would love to.” Rebecca said quickly. “I was just dropping off the mail. And then the mailman came, and so I was on my way to pick it up. After I take it inside, I’m sure Mom won’t mind if I go with you.”

  “I’ll drive you up to the house then,” Miriam said. “You’ll need a thicker coat for the drive. Unless this snow quits soon.”

  “I’ll get my Sunday coat,” Rebecca agreed, quickly running out to the mailbox, then climbing onto the buggy step, being careful not to slip on the wet metal. Sitting back in the seat as Miriam let out the reins, her emotions struggled to catch up with the news.

  “I’m surprised too,” Miriam said, aware of Rebecca’s shock over the news. “One doesn’t really know how to feel.”

  “They really said he was well?” Rebecca asked. “It’s so wonderful.”

  “Sharon took the call this morning,” Miriam said. “I had told them to call at the store if there was news. I guess that’s what they did. They told Sharon that John was awake and moving about. Said his mood was good. They are very optimistic now about his prospects.”

  “Sure changes how I was feeling this morning.”

  “A little low?”

  “Yes,” Rebecca admitted. “Mom just wrote to Leona about the accident. That was one of the letters I was just dropping off. Maybe that stirred up the thoughts again. That and the snow.”

  Bringing the buggy to a stop by the house, Miriam waited as Rebecca went inside.

  Mattie had noticed the buggy drive up and was waiting when Rebecca entered.

  “What’s Miriam want?” Mattie asked.

  “Oh, its wonderful news. The hospital called. John’s awake and moving about. She wants me to go down with her.”

  “Well…” Mattie let her relief and joy show fully on her face. “I guess that’s one crisis over for you. Now just take care of the other one.”

  “I’ll try to,” Rebecca agreed. “I hope John understands. Miriam’s waiting. She didn’t say when we would be back.”

  “Take whatever time is needed,” Mattie told her. “We can handle things here. Just thank the good Lord He is helping you out. Things could have been much worse.”

  “I know,” Rebecca agreed. Quickly she got her coat and left the house.

  In the buggy with Miriam, she settled in for the drive, listening to the wheels squeak in the snow. Miriam’s attention to the driving meant for a quiet ride, at least until they started climbing the hill toward Unity.

  “You’ve been handling all of this really well,” Miriam said tenderly. “Many a girl would have fallen apart with what John has gone through.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Rebecca demurred, knowing Miriam couldn’t know everything she had gone through. “Maybe I just don’t show it.”

  “You still did well. Isaac and I couldn’t be more thankful with the choice John’s made.”

  Rebecca said nothing, her gloved hands wrapped up in her Sunday coat, wishing Miriam wouldn’t be so open with her praise.

  “Many times I was thankful Da Hah gave us a girl first—so John wasn’t an only child. Without that, no doubt, we would have spoiled him completely. Even now,” Miriam said, smiling again, “I wonder sometimes. But we do our best. I know Isaac does.”

  “You try, I know,” was all Rebecca could get out.

  “Maybe the accident was a maturing point for John,” Miriam wondered aloud. “Not that we thought John needed it, but Da Hah must have. Now He has given him back to us so quickly, and that after all of our fears. I feel so ashamed at how we have acted and even thought.”

  “I didn’t think you had such thoughts—I did too,” Rebecca assured her.

  “We’re all human,” Miriam said, sighing. “Now to get John home and on his way to full health. Even with this good news, I suppose there will still be a recovery time.”

  “I imagine the doctor can tell us,” Rebecca said.

  During the rest of the ride, the silence resumed between them. Rebecca felt comfortable enough with the quiet ride, for which she was glad. It was a good sign, she figured, of things to come. At least she was getting along with John’s mother, if not totally yet with John himself.

  Miriam tied up at the lightpost, and the two of them headed up the walk to the hospital front doors. Their steps made a crunching sound, although the snow had stopped falling.

  “What can I do for you?” a cheery young receptionist asked, greeting them.

  “My son is here,” Miriam said. “You called us about him.”

  “What’s your son’s name?” the receptionist asked.

  “John Miller.”

  “Miller.” The re
ceptionist tapped the keys on the computer. “Yes. We have two John Millers. A head injury, and then they just brought in a case last night. Appendicitis. A young boy. I believe Nurse Bethany called his family this morning to update them.”

  “What about the other John?” Mattie stepped closer to the desk.

  The receptionist tapped a few more keys. “Dr. Wine’s the attending physician. There’s nothing new on the case that I can see.”

  “Then why did the hospital call us?” Miriam asked, a little upset.

  “Who called you?” the receptionist asked.

  “The hospital. They called our number, saying John was awake and moving about.”

  “That call would have to go through me. No one else was handling the desk this morning.” The receptionist was tapping away on the keyboard.

  “But they did,” Miriam insisted, her voice firm.

  The receptionist seemed to have found what she was looking for. “I gave Bethany this phone number,” she said, pointing to the monitor, “and asked her to call the parents of the appendicitis case.”

  “That’s our contact phone number,” Miriam said, her voice alarmed.

  “Your phone number?” the receptionist said with surprise.

  “Yes. It’s our phone number.”

  “But…” The receptionist’s hand was on her mouth. “I can’t see how. I must have gotten the phone numbers mixed up. I’m so sorry.”

  “So John is still in the same condition?” Miriam asked, stepping back from the desk, her face showing no emotions.

  “Yes…I’m so sorry,” the receptionist said with genuine regret.

  “Can we see John then?” Miriam asked, making as if to head in that direction whether she had permission or not.

  “Of course,” the receptionist said quickly.

  Rebecca followed Miriam down the hall, waiting as Miriam softly opened the door to John’s room and glanced in.

  “Nothing’s changed,” she said quietly, her hand swinging the door inward so Rebecca could see too. “I guess we might as well go on home.”